


Of Cats and Dogs

by theescapist99



Series: A Nice Place To Visit [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, I promise, M/M, about a boy and his dog, and percival, credence just wants love, its just a cute simple story, just a cute story, little bit of hurt comfort, newt and percival dont get along, no darkness here, nope nope, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9950123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theescapist99/pseuds/theescapist99
Summary: The next few days went like so:1. Percival would wake up, and sneeze about twenty times.2. He would go to work, sneezing about twenty more times.3. He would spend much of the day practicing what he was going to tell Credence how this was his house, and he absolutely, positively, could not have a dog there.4. But then Percival would go home, and Credence would be in a great mood, smiling and -- good god, since when did the boy blush so much?5. And Percival would lose all determination until at least the next morning.6. Rinse, and repeat.





	

The first time Percival saw the mutt sitting on their doorstep, he had no qualms about shooing it away immediately.

“Go! Get out!” Percival lightly kicked the shaggy looking golden retriever, who had been curled up in a large ball on the doormat. The dog looked at Percival almost accusingly before it uncurled itself, shook itself off, and scampered away.

But the second time around, he only groaned.

He knew it was no use, considering Credence was already crouching over it -- petting it’s fur, and cooing at it.

The dog seemed equally receptive, it’s large tongue lapping up one of the sides of his face like it was a treat.

And yet -- Credence was _smiling_. He was genuinely beaming, which was a rare treat indeed.

That had to count for something, right?  

Percival almost disliked the way the sight seemed to pull at his heart strings. He almost resented the way it stirred some foreign feeling of affection that seemed to well up in his throat.

The key word being “almost” of course.

Because the truth of the matter was, the sight of that smile still made his shitty day at work somewhat less shitty.

And it was out of gratitude for this that Percival did _not_ kick the dog away as he approached the doorway of their brownstone. Still, he did not make eye contact with Credence as he turned the knob of the front door and said, “Make sure that thing doesn’t go in the house.”

Credence actually _whined_ , “But Mr. Graves, it’s cold outside tonight.”

“Can’t have dogs around me,” Percival mumbled in response. “You know. Allergies.”

It wasn’t a lie. Percival _did_ have a slight allergy to dogs. Granted, it wasn’t such a heavy allergy that he couldn’t have put up with a few sneezes for one night, but Credence didn’t need to know that.

Imagine his dismay, then, when Percival found that he could not stop sneezing over the next few days.

“Credence, have you been hanging around that dog again?” Percival asked as calmly as he could one morning on his way out of the door.

Credence looked down at his shoes before muttering a “No…” that by all means screamed “Yes!”

Percival sighed deeply, but didn’t press the matter. They could discuss it later. He gave Credence a small kiss on the forehead, an action that honestly took them both by surprise. Credence blushed heavily, and Percival stepped back.

He wasn’t sure why he had done it.

If he had to guess, he’d say that he didn’t want to leave for work with Credence thinking he was mad at him.

Percival had come to learn from his Aurors, the ones who actually _had_ families, that you should never leave home angry, or at least without reminding them you loved them, because you never knew if you might ---

Percival shook his head.

He was over thinking this, of course. He always over thinks everything -- it was kind of part of his job.

Above them, Percival’s keen ear picked up what appeared to be the sound of a scurrying rat -- but much heavier, like the footsteps of a very large dog. He looked up at the ceiling.

Suddenly, Credence grinned sheepishly.

“Have a nice day at work!” he exclaimed rather hurriedly, his voice cracking.

Percival raised an eyebrow at him, put on his jacket, and left.

 

* * *

 

The next few days went like so:

  1. Percival would wake up, and sneeze about twenty times.
  2. He would go to work, sneezing about twenty more times.
  3. He would spend much of the day practicing what he was going to tell Credence how this was his house, and he absolutely, _positively_ , could _not_ have a dog there.
  4. But then Percival would go home, and Credence would be in a great mood, smiling and -- _good god, since when did the boy blush so much?_
  5. And Percival would lose all determination until at least the next morning.
  6. Rinse, and repeat.



Percival wondered if he could get Credence a cat that he might like just the same.

Cats were nice. Percival grew up with cats in his household. They were so quiet, clean, and well behaved compared to dogs.

Cats, Percival could identify with.

Why oh _why_ couldn’t Credence have found a nice stray cat instead?

But alas, it did seem as though Credence had formed a bond with this specific dog -- this dog that Percival could not help but have a specific distaste for.

One late hour, Percival could the faint echo of the boy crying from the other room. Percival had sprinted to him, his hand already on his wand, mind and emotion already going haywire with worry from his hard encoded paranoia.

And when he got there, he found Credence fitfully tossing and turning in the throes of what looked to be a nasty nightmare. Right on top of him, the mutt was pawing at him, although gently -- he appeared to be trying to wake him. The mutt looked over at Percival and let out a demure but sad whine.

Percival went over to Credence, trying to peel the dog off him, but the dog seemed determined to stick around. It leaped down off the bed, but it trotted over into a corner and settled there. Percival glared at it, in a way that said _‘I’ll deal with you later_.’ He could already feel a sneeze coming on, but he refused to sneeze in front of the dog. He would _not_ give it the satisfaction of knowing it had that power over him.

Anyway, Credence was still crying.

Percival bent down and grabbed Credence’s face, which was soaked in tears.

“Credence…” he said as he stroked a hand through Credence’s hair.

His voice had been quiet, but miraculously it seemed to be enough to calm him. Credence’s eyes opened slowly, his expression initially fearful. But as his eyes seemed to adjust to Percival’s face -- as Credence saw eyes that Percival could not have known seemed immensely concerned, and sad, and gentle -- Credence calmed.

Credence took steadying breaths before he whispered sleepily, “I dreamed you were dead, Mr. Graves.”

Percival's breath hitched.

He didn’t know what to say to that.

Somehow, he felt guilty. Like it were already true.

The typical answer to a child who states these kinds of fears to a parent is to say something along the lines of “that will never happen”, or “don’t be silly, I’m not going anywhere”.

But didn’t it almost just happen not that long ago - when Grindlewald almost ruined both their lives?

Could Percival ever in good conscious promise that it wouldn’t happen again?

Percival chewed on his lip a moment before sitting on the bed himself, and he pulled Credence closer to him. Credence nuzzled into his neck, and Percival tried to ignore the way the feeling of Credence’s breath warming his skin made him uncomfortably hard.

Rubbing soothing circles into one of Credence’s arms, Percival simply said, “Shhh...its's alright. I’m right here, love.”

Percival wanted to reassure Credence more than that, but he he couldn’t think of anything else that he could say with certainty. They had Grindlewald for now, yes, but it was hard to say how long that would last. And even besides the bastard, he had many other enemies.

Tends to happen when you're the director of security. 

He stared at the dog in the corner who was staring back at him, seemingly sullen. He hated the fact that he might actually be burdening Credence with additional worries, but he dare not make any statements on what might happen in the future. 

Percival just… didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep.

Credence has already far too many of those.

 

* * *

 

It was an unusual day.

For once, Percival was the one staying home and Credence was out and about. Tina and Queenie had taken him out for a shopping date.

Well, technically they had invited Percival and Credence both, but Percival had the feeling that they had known Percival would reject said invitation, _thank you very much_.

Percival yawned as he stretched out on his favorite armchair, the ankles of his feet resting on his matching foot rest. Both bits of furniture were black, leather, and expensive, like much of his belongings. His reading glasses on, he picked up the paper that was on his coffee table and unfolded it, humming a song in his head, thinking about how he finally had some peace and --

There was a crash in the kitchen.

Because _of course._

Percival sighed, put down the paper, and walked into the kitchen area.

The mutt was there, on the white tiled floor by the stove. In its mouth, it chewed on a perfectly good loaf of bread that had been snatched from the counter.

_Damn thief._

Percival rolled his eyes, exasperation heavy in his tone, as he asked, “When are we going to finally cut out this little charade, hmm, Scamander?”

And suddenly Newt was standing in front of him, loaf in hand, still chewing on a chunk of bread.

“Sorry. Being an animagus is hard work, you know.” Newt paused to swallow the chunk he was chewing on. “I’m new to this, so it is for me...at least.”

Percival glared, _entirely_ unamused.

“Why have you been following Credence around?”

Newt shrugged half heartedly, although Percival doubted that he was actually unsure of anything. Newt observed a bit of the wall behind Percival and just said, “I was in town. Just wanted to keep an eye on him, I suppose. See how he’s been doing.”

Percival huffed, leaning back against the sink.

“And you felt the need to stick around for weeks? You couldn’t have just asked? Done a coffee date?”

Newt looked down at the ground similar to the way Credence had not that long ago, suddenly very interested in his own shoes.

He didn’t answer. Realization dawned on Percival.

“You don’t trust me.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was logical, after all. Who could _really_ blame him? Newt likely did not exactly have a great first impression of Percival, and he had been one of the naysayers when it came to the decision of whether or not Credence should move in with him. It should have been obvious, in hindsight. 

Newt frowned, “It’s not so much that. Its just…” (Percival fought the urge to snap at him saying,“oh yes it is”) “…well Credence is very _fragile_. I just wanted to observe him to make sure he’s handling things alright.”

“Handling things alright?” Percival quipped, “What exactly are _things_? What do you think I’m doing with the boy?”

And Newt did actually make eye contact then, although the eyes seemed questioning. Percival was reminded of the first time he saw the dog and he had looked at Percival accusingly.

He had kind of suspected, then.

But that wasn’t the issue at hand here. Percival swallowed hard and then put on his best offended expression, suddenly feeling quite nervous. 

“You think I’m -- _good god_ , Scamander -- he’s 20 years younger than me!”

Newt said nothing, his eyebrows raising.

Percival could feel himself actually sweating, and he had no idea why. He could question some of the most dangerous dark wizards of their time at work, no problem. And yet here he was, sweating and shaking in front of _fucking Newt Scamander_.

“It’s no matter.” Newt said, finally breaking the tense moment. He grabbed another loaf of bread off the counter, the brazen bastard, and actually fucking smiled. “I see now that he’s in good hands. And, well, I mean…he _is_ technically an adult, you both are. Can’t stop you even if I wanted to. I’ll be off, then.”

Newt nodded curtly, and quickly turned heel, his the tails of his blue trench coat whipping around.

But before he could walk out the back door, Percival stopped him.

“Scamander, wait.”

“Hmm?” Newt twisted his head around to look at Percival, who was now the one very interested in his own shoes.

“If anything were…” Percival cringed at what he had to say, but knew there likely was not going to be another private moment between them any time soon. “…if anything were to happen, to me, I mean…could you?”

He motioned up in the direction of Credence’s bedroom. Newt’s expression actually softened at that, and he almost resembled a dog once more.  
”Of course, Percival.”

Percival glared at the use of his first name but said nothing more as Newt smiled and left the house.

He went back to his armchair, and groaned as he plopped back down on it, his emotions reeling.

The front door opened not long after, a chipper Credence walking through it with a handful of large shopping bags. Some of them appeared to be from a store he knew to sell pet supplies.

Percival sighed as he thought to himself:

_He’s going to have to get the kid another dog -- isn’t he?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried not to make it too predicable, but it probably was. Oh well. 
> 
> Come chat phantasmiicparade.tumblr.com


End file.
